FunHouse
by Allons-y Rosie
Summary: Nolanverse Joker and my version of a nolanverse Harley. Their relationship how it begins and develops. Read and review please! rated M for violence nd sex probably
1. Glorious

_**A/N: **__So this is a Nolan verse look at the Harley/Joker relationship. It's a little out of character for both of them but have an open mind and you might like it. Please review!_

_**Sadly, I don't own anything… (Author goes and cries in a corner).**_

Harley looked at the clock with a desperate expression on her face. It was eighth period in her Psychology class and she _had_ to get to gymnastics soon or her head would explode from all the psych crap that was being thrown at her. She sighed. It had been a long day full of gossiping, whispering, giggling girls making fun of her and talking behind her back. She couldn't understand it. She had been popular once. She'd had friends who were kind and loyal to her and she was kind and loyal to them in return. What had gone wrong?

Well for one, her family life. Her mom was certifiably insane. She had Hypomania which basically meant that she was brilliant but she thought too fast and often thought she was someone else. She was so comatose sometimes that Harley had to actually bathe her and clothe her because God forbid her Dad actually do something useful. And then there were times when she would be Mrs. Stepford wife and act like the coolest person ever.

Harley smiled to herself at the thought. When she was little she thought that her mom was a fairytale princess; straight from the story book with her blonde hair and brown eyes. They would stay home and play dress up and make cookies. Her mom had been Ms. New York at one time or other and always had a closet full of beautiful gowns and tiaras from her competing days. It had been great until she turned twelve and her mom had started having fits where she would be horribly mean and cold to her. She would tell her that "if only she'd had brown eyes then maybe she could've been beautiful." She knew her mom was crazy but the comments still stung especially because they came from her.

Then there was her Dad. She didn't even want to _think _about her dad. He was the filthiest piece of scum that had ever walked the earth as far as she was concerned. A pedophile. He'd gotten to her when she was little, nothing more than feeling her up and beating her occasionally but she _hated_ him.

The bell rang. Just as Harley popped up to run to her locker, the principal's voice came over the loud speaker.

"I ask that all students stay in their seats. I have some…," I shaky breath was heard.

"Bad news." The TV mounted in the top corner of the room flickered on and the news flashed on the screen. Sister Lucy continued on the loudspeaker in a faint voice.

"One of our students, Katie Addams, has been murdered," her voice broke on the last word and she clicked off.

Mary Kate Angelucci screamed and broke down into sobs. Mr. Wills had to escort her out to the nurse's office as the news came on. The news casters looked pale and drawn as they reported the crime.

"Gotham PD found the body of seventeen year old Katie Addams yesterday. The girl's body had been placed outside the family's home late yesterday night with a video on top of it. We advise that any young children be taken from the room due to the video's graphic nature."

Harley sucked in a sharp breath just picturing Katie's mom or dad going outside to get the paper and instead finding their daughter's dead body. For some reason she felt she should feel more sympathetic but all she felt was like laughing. It sounded harsh but the just the though of Katie's mom not being able to distort her face enough to cry because of all the BOTOX in her face made her want to do nothing but laugh. Katie was one of the richest and most popular girls at Saint Dymphna's who basically made life hell for girl's like Harley.

Harley retuned her focus to the screen as it went fuzzy for a second and then the image of a beaten and bleary eyed Katie came up. The room was in silence as the video progressed.

The girls were stunned. Katie never looked this bad, even when she came to school with a hangover. She was a small beautiful girl but she never looked small, especially when she was in your face cursing you out or destroying you behind her back. The teachers always took her side when the girls she made fun of complained because of how tiny and innocent looking she was. Harley personally hated her.

Katie had somehow guessed about her home life and spread the room that Harley "fucked her Daddy and liked it." Just the thought of Katie made Harley's fists clench until her knuckles turned white. The video continued.

Katie looked at whoever was behind the camera and groaned.

"Tell them your name." Katie's green eyes looked uncomprehendingly up at the camera. It took her a moment for her to move her mouth right.

"Katie…Katie Addams."

"Now where do you got to school?"

"Saint Dymphna's School for Girls," she started talking rapidly now between sobs.

"Please, my father can pay for me. I didn't do anything wrong, I swear! Please…I just want to go home…," she stopped and bowed her head as she wept. Harley noticed a cut on her hair that was bleeding heavily and wetting her trendy pixie cut.

A purple gloved hand stroked her face, mocking comfort and slapped her lightly.

"Hey, shh, shh, shhhhh. It's gonna be okay." Katie whimpered softly as the Joker's face overcame the screen.

"Let this uh, be a _lesson_ to all the little _girls_ who decide to wander dark alleys at night."

He lent in conspiratorially.

There's a _crazy_ man on the loose. Oh, and uh Batman? For that little _stunt_ you pulled. Ya know, putting me in Arkham? It was pointless. And now more people will _die."_

He turned towards Katie and set the camera down on a table.

"Like her."

Katie opened her eyes wide and struggled fiercely against her bonds. She screamed as he came nearer, flicking out his knife and a piece of piano wire. . He squatted down and cut her bonds. With a yell, she tried to run.

"Oh, no ya don't," he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. She screamed at the audible pooping sound that came from her arm. It was dislocated.

He straddled her, his knees pinning her hands at her sides, and grabbed some duct tape, ripping off a piece with his teeth and smoothing it over her mouth.

"Use your _inside_ voice," he growled at her and she quieted immediately, but tears still swam down her cheeks in silent streaks. He raised the piano wire.

"Let's save the funeral home some trouble, shall we? How about…a nice big _smile_?" He ripped the duct tape off and started threading the wire into her lips making a black smile stretch across her face. She stopped screaming as he threaded it further across her lips.

"Much better! Now," he walked away to a table and took off his jacket and gloves then rolled up his sleeves to just below his elbows. He danced his fingers across the tray of torture tools and upraised a pair of gardening shears with pursed lips. He threw it up in the air and caught it again like a gentleman would a cane and smiled widely.

"Let's do something about that manicure."

Katie gave a muffled scream behind her bleeding smile as he came towards her and laughed quietly, a slow building laugh until it became unbearably loud and maniacal.

The screen went fuzzy and was turned off. Mr. Wills came back inside and dismissed the girls who were all crying, whispering or praying:

"Why hasn't someone shot him yet?"

"Scum like that doesn't deserve to live!"

"She was such a _sweet _girl! Why her?!"

"I hated that bitch but no one deserves to die like that."

Harley listened to all of this until the room was cleared out then slowly gathered all her things and walked out of the classroom.

What she had just seen, she was sure, was pure beauty in action.

He was glorious! The most perfect thing in all existence! He was an angel who had been brought into her life at this very moment so she could realize that she didn't need to keep living her horrible life. There were alternatives. Like him, for example.

She smiled to herself and felt evil.

It felt good.

_**A/n: **__Love it? Hate it? Pop me a review and let me know what improvements should be made._


	2. Masquarade

_**A/N: Yay a new chapter!! It's pretty long… please review it only takes like a second so seriously. Read on!**_

_Russian roulette is not the same without a gun_

_And baby when its love if it's not rough it isn't fun._

_ - Lady Gaga, _Poker Face

Harley walked down the street on her way home from gymnastics. She was sued to walking everywhere by now: Her Dad was always working late ( not that she wanted him to drive her anywhere, anyway) and her mom wasn't allowed to drive. Besides, walking was good exercise and she liked the sound her sneakers made pounding against the pavement. She reveled in the late spring air and did a cartwheel or two. It was late so no one was really around to see her in her red leotard and black shorts, not that she cared anyway.

Her apartment was just at the line where the Narrows and the big business buildings met. Her Dad was trying to slowly build his way up in advertising but kept hitting the proverbial "glass ceiling." Harley chuckled at the irony.

_Joke's on you, you stupid pig._

She turned a corner down an alleyway. It was her usual short cut home. Although she normally didn't go down alleyways at night, she was looking for someone.

_Clang!_

She turned around, holding her gym bag to her chest. She unzipped the bag and fingered her pocket knife, taking it out and sticking it in her pocket. She looked down, something had kicked a can; probably a squirrel.

_Right,_ she thought wryly,_ because Gotham is just full of cute woodland creatures. _

The sound of footsteps brought her out of her sarcastic thoughts and she glanced up. A figure was standing at the other end of the alley. It looked like a man with his head cocked to the side. Her heart started thudding loudly in her chest. There was a certain vulnerability that came with being a woman, especially when said woman was walking down a dark alley in one of the nation's most crime ridden cities. She took a couple of steps forward, going against all instinct, then instinct won out and she bolted for the end of the alley. She skidded to a stop in front of a chain link fence. _Shit._

Harley looked behind her to see if the figure was following and wasn't surprised to see him walking calmly towards her. With a frightened yell, she threw her gym bag over the fence and started to climb. She screamed as she felt her foot being dragged down. Gripping one of the links she grunted and kicked her foot out of the stalker's grasp. She heard a satisfying grunt of pain, then a growl of frustration as she was pulled down one again, successfully this time. She hit the pavement on her elbow and groaned.

The next thing Harley knew, her head was bounced against a brick wall and she was gazing into the grease painted face of one of the scariest people she'd probably ever meet.

He had his hand on the scruff of her jacket and was looking into her eyes with a hard expression. They were brown and soft, like he should've been a nice person but some dark force had beaten it out of him. She thought she must've smiled a little and mumbled something about angels really existing because he scowled at her and pressed his blade even deeper into her neck, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you that little girls shouldn't walk by themselves at night?"

_Oh God, _she thought_,_ Even the way his breath smelled was driving her crazy. It was a strange mix of blood, summertime, night, dust, and gunpowder. She blinked a few times to clear her head.

"My _mother_ has the mentality of a ten year old beauty pageant finalist, so no, she didn't," she was surprised at the composure of her own voice but silently prayed that he wouldn't kill her because _dammit _she was _not_ going to die a virgin.

He scowled at her, making his scars twist, then abruptly stepped back and laughed loudly.

Harley jumped. She had definitely not been expecting that reaction. He pointed at her with his knife, smiling slightly.

"You're a fiery little thing, aren't you?"

She didn't answer; she was too busy trying to detach herself from halfway up the brick wall. He walked towards her and put both his hands against the wall next to her head.

"You're lucky. Now, I'm gonna let you, ah, run along," she started to leave but he grabbed her arm and she turned back towards him. He reached for her hand and popped her dislocated finger back into place, keeping his eyes on hers' the whole time.

The touch of his calloused hands on hers made Harley shiver involuntarily and look down, embarrassed at her reaction. She didn't even feel her bones slide back into place.

He squinted at her sideways and lifted her head up, putting his hand around her neck and propping up her chin with his thumb.

"_This_ time." She nodded frantically and started to run home, tears stinging her eyes. She stopped and turned.

"I love the improvements you made to Katie's face," she said as she blew a kiss and ran away, walking on cloud nine.

Joker's POV

He cleaned his knife on his jacket and started after her for awhile; a confused look on his face. There was something about that girl he just couldn't put his finger on. He flipped his blade a few times and chewed on the inside of one of his scars. Not being able to read someone as soon as they opened their mouth unnerved him.

At first she had seemed like nothing but a bratty rich kid but then he saw the fear flicker in her eyes and pegged her for a wannabe street rat. Not that she couldn't fight, of course, he could feel his lip swelling from the kick she's given him in the mouth earlier. It was when he grabbed her arm and she turned around that he's seen two things: one, absolute calm and resignation. Two, a healing shiner under her eye and finger shaped bruises along her arm. She definitely wasn't the care fullest of girls and he could tell. He just didn't know whether or not she was worth following home. Unless…

He smiled and turned back into the alley with his heels. Her bag had fallen over the fence when she'd tried to get away and he went to get it.

He climbed over the fence and fell less than gracefully onto the concrete. Laughing a little at the pain he got up and cracked his back then bent to pick up the fallen gym bag.

A dark smile crossed his face, making the scars twist upwards the way they were meant to.

_This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship._

Harley ran up the stairs to her apartment and slammed the door, breathing heavily and leaned against it. She couldn't believer her luck! Out of all the dark alleyways in Gotham she'd picked the right one. It was obviously meant to be if it had been that simple to find him. And, she thought, if she found him that easily once it couldn't be that hard to find him again.

A crash came from the other room – her mother. Harley pulled herself off the door and pulled back the sliding door to the kitchen. Her mom was in the middle of the floor, kneeling in broken glass, trying to mop up a water spill. From what she would tell, she had knocked over a vase and decided to clean it up, not even minding the fact that her knees were bleeding all over the white linoleum.

She sighed and her mother looked up at her, eyes wide. She looked like a little kid that had gotten caught doing something she knew she shouldn't. It would've been better if she had left it alone; water dried quickly. But it was things like this that her mom wouldn't comprehend no matter how hard she tried.

Harley smiled warmly at Blanche and walked towards her, squatting down next to her. She grabbed the rag her mom was holding and spread it o the floor to soak up the water.

"Hi Mom, can you stand up for a minute?" she took her mom's arm and stood her up.

"Hi Darling," Blanche said as she hopped up on the counter and swung her legs while blood dripped onto the floor. Harley couldn't help but be a little mad. Her mom was acting as if her legs weren't even hurting but she knew they were. Blanche was exceedingly good at putting unpleasant things to the back of her mind and becoming numb to them. It was one of the many things Harley envied her for. She shook the thought away from her mind and went to the medicine cabinet to get the first aid kit. If her mom wasn't cleaned up before her dad got home, there'd be hell to pay.

It was her job to be the babysitter. She didn't always mind, though. Sometimes Blanche had rare maternal advice to give. It didn't always make a whole lot of sense but Harley tucked it away in her mind so she could remember it and save it for later.

She filled a glass with water and handed it to her mom with two little white pills. She obediently took them and swallowed the pills. They were meant to calm her and slow down her thoughts so she could make sense of them easier. Conveniently, she sometimes forgot to take them.

Harley got some disinfectant and sprayed it on Blanche's knees. She looked up to see if it stung but her mom showed no reaction and calmly sipped her water. She was looking at her daughter with a hard expression. It was strange to see such a serious expression on her mother's face. She was usually dazed and childish at best but something was very different here. Harley stopped dabbing at her mom's cut and looked up at her.

"What?" she checked herself mentally. Sure, she looked sweaty but she was always sweaty after gymnastics.

"You're bleeding," she pointed to Harley's elbow with a troubled expression. Harley cursed. When she fell off the fence in the alley she must've hit her elbow. Of course, she wasn't really paying attention to herself at the time. There was a rather gorgeous criminal threatening her life so an elbow scrape was low on her list of things to worry about.

She let it bleed and continued cleaning her mom's knee.

"It's nothing. I fell on my way home," she lied badly.

Blanche grabbed her wrist and lifted it up to see her elbow. She gazed at it with narrowed eyes, glancing between her daughter's eyes and the offending scrape. She let it fall.

"Wanna know what _I_ think?"

Harley laughed softly to herself.

"Sure, mom. What do _you_ think?"

Blanche looked up from under her eyelashes. For a split second, Harley could see how beautiful her mother had been in her competing days; when she was the young hopeful from Oklahoma who genuinely wanted world peace. The girl who had no idea it would end through a night with an Irish business man. No way of knowing who to turn to when she got pregnant except for the Irish business man. Mental illness had wasted her away but the girl was still there underneath it all. She was just harder to see now a days.

"I think there's a _boy_ involved," se said as she giggled beneath her hand and leaned back a little as if it were the funniest thing in the world. Harley couldn't help but laugh a little with her. Her happiness was infectious. She rolled her eyes and put a band-aid on her knees.

"Don't forget to kiss it better," she added. Harley smiled wryly and kissed her knees.

"There; all better."

The water spill had dried up by then and she went to pick up the rag and sweep up the broken glass. She threw it out and turned to her mom who was watching her with her head cocked to the side.

"Well, _is_ there?"

"Is there what?"

"A boy involved silly head."

Harley stood up slowly from sweeping up the glass and threw it out. Should she tell her mom? Not who the person was, of course, but what she felt. Would she be able to help?

"Well…kind of…"

Blanche hopped down off the counter and brought her over to the living room, plopping her on the couch.

"Spill."

"He's older –,"

"How old?" she suddenly became serious. The pills must be kicking in. She'd have to tread carefully.

"Not much older. I'm not sure the exact age. He's _sort_ of a celebrity."

"Ohhh, what's his name?"

"Ummm," she really had no idea what his name was. Actually, all she knew about him was what she'd been able to collect from the newspapers.

Blanche got up, suddenly distracted and bleary eyes. She was _saved._

"That's nice, sweetie. I'm a bit tired. I'll just go lie down."

The pills _had_ kicked in. Harley let out a relieved whoosh of air and went to her room; which was conveniently next to her parents'.

Her room was just the right color of red. It was light, like watered down blood with little black diamonds painted in at random. It was the one place she could really just relax and be herself.

She flopped down on her bed and exhaled. It was a good thing her mom didn't notice the Excedrin PM she'd slipped in with her actually medication. Sure, she shouldn't be giving her mom strange pills but it wasn't like she did it often. It's just that she didn't feel like talking.

Besides, explaining that she loved a hardened criminal to her mom wasn't exactly number one on her to-do list.

She snuggled into her various pillows and teddy bears. It was late; about ten thirty and she was tired. Harley sighed at her alarm clock and went to get into her pajamas. She threw on a large, plaid nightshirt that barely touched her thighs. Yes, it was a little skimpy but she had boy short underwear on so it didn't really matter.

Any, she thought, it's not like anyone will see me.

She glanced at her vanity. A sparkle in the moonlight from her window caught her eye. She walked towards it and gasped. A Venetian eye mask lay on the table. It was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. It was white except for a black diamond painted over one eye, the ties were a dark red and there were red sparkles around the edge.

Harley picked it up and glanced at it. There was a note taped to the bottom and she snatched it away, turning her back to it and plopping down on her bed again. She read it once and sighed happily. Then, she held it close to her heart and fell asleep.

_You left your gym bag._

_ - J_


	3. Awareness

**A/N: (Fights off barrage of rotten vegetables form angry readers) Yes, I know I've been thoughtless in not updating for a while. Please forgive me! My life decided to get more hectic by totally having my schedule flipped which left me no time at all to actually sit down and write for my lovely reviewers (all 6 of you). Let me know what you think! Reviews are crack and I'm an addict!**

_You know you're in love when _

_You can't sleep, because your reality_

_Is finally better than your dreams_

_ - Dr. Seuss_

_Chapter Three_

Harley slept in that morning; her dreams too good for her to get up and leave them. Besides, they'd seemed so real that is was almost heartbreaking to wake up and let them go back into their little box. However she had a mission for herself. She was going to do some research and find The Joker. She had to. He'd given her a gift and now it was her duty to thank him properly. Or, at least, that's what she told herself.

She steeled herself and got dressed. What in hell was she supposed to wear? She couldn't just throw on anything when _he _walked around rocking a three-piece suit.

A predicament but not an impossible one. She finally settled on some skinny jeans and a black tank top. As she grabbed her bag, she looked at the mask on her vanity and carefully placed it in the bag. Maybe she'd even wear it, who knew?

Harley crept into the kitchen, almost to0 the back door, when her father walked in. She froze as a shiver of revulsion trickled down her spine. He looked at her with his ice blue eyes. She'd inherited them from him but he's were darker and more watery and definitely not as piercing. A twin of Blanche.

"Where are _you_ going?" he asked as he went to the cupboard to get some breakfast.

"Gymnastics," she mumbled as she opened the door.

He snorted disbelievingly.

"Not dressed like that you aren't."

She sighed and mentally berated herself for lying so badly.

"Just – look why do you care anyway?" She finally gave up on making up stories.

Darcy turned around and gave her the once over. Harley suddenly felt the need to cover herself. It was always the same with him when he stared at her. It was as if he was looking right through her clothes and into her darkest secrets, like he knew everything. Well, she wouldn't let him know where she was about to go, not if her life depended on it. Because, really, when she thought about it, it did.

She shook her head and opened the screen door, walking out. She could swear she could hear Darcy chuckling at her which only mad her walk all the faster. She had to get away. The man's very presence made her want to gouge his eyes out. The man was pure evil with his black hair and blue eyes. Sure he was handsome and tall. She could see why Blanche loved him, and she did, in fact, love him. She loved him more than life itself even when all he did was walk all over her and order her around. It was horrible watching him yell at and hurt her mother and she couldn't do anything for fear of his anger turning at her. She'd get him back someday. It sounded stupid and cliché but she would. It was only a matter of time.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

_Joker's POV _

He lay down in the seat of the old Ferris wheel, looking up at the sky. It was probably blue beneath all the smog Gotham created. He wondered if a city's insanity could actually pollute the very air. Probably. After all, he thought as he smiled and flipped his knife in the air, anything was possible if you tried hard enough. He should know _that_ better than anyone. He smiled and stretched his arms over his head. He'd given the droogies the day off; there was no point in them coming if there was nothing to do. Anyway, it wasn't like he needed any help blowing things up. He'd gotten on pretty well without them until now. They were merely an entourage.

Every villain needed a day off and this was his. Over the last few months, torturing Batman had been a constant theme, and obsession. He was fun. He was like the ants he used to burn with a magnifying glass when he was eight. They squirmed for a while and _tried_ to fight but they gave up eventually. Just like Batman would. However, Batsy had proved to be of stronger stuff than he had thought. Batman had truly wanted to kill him. He'd had him hanging over that skyscraper and he'd seen how much Batman would've _loved_ seeing him splatter on the pavement.

That was the thing about Batman, he thought as turned on his side, trying to get comfortable (Yeah metal amusement park rides aren't exactly the most comfortable place to chill), he was simple. _Compassion_ was his greatest strength and his greatest weakness. If some other Johnny Criminal didn't get him sooner or later, he'd kill himself from the exhaustion of trying to save everyone all the time. He was so easy to read after a while of messing with him.

Which is why it was unnerving for The Joker to not be able to read a simple girl. Who would blow a kiss to him? He shook his head sadly, Gotham _was_ crazy. It was perfect for him.

He sat up and shook out his hair. He showered today for the first time in forever and threw his suit in the one washing machine the place had. You'd think with all the upchuck from the rides there'd be more than one. However he liked it here. It was faded but you could tell it had been interesting in its heyday.

He walked by the Bumper Cars and let his hand run across the links in the fence, thinking; which in his case could have fatal consequences to anyone who happened to be in a five foot radius.

Her name was Harleen Quinzel; he'd gleaned that from her school ID. She was from the same school as that other girl. (What had her name been? Cathy, Karen?) Did that school teach that it was okay to walk down alleys or was it just coincidence? Sure it was Catholic School but did they really believe that there was a God great enough to protect little girls from _him_?

Except that the girl he'd killed had been selling herself. Not that she'd needed the money, her clothes had all been designer, but for the sole purpose of going against her _Father._ She'd met him at the wrong time. He'd literally just gotten out of Arkham and she'd just walked up to him, not threatening or hookerish at all. But he was still drugged up then. Oh yeah, Arkham kept their patients _all_ nice and comatose. They just barely passed state inspection. It made him wonder what the hell they did with all the money that Wayne brat gave them.

That move had been his last move on the city so far. He had a plan. Well, a vague skeleton of a plan, anyway. He had to take it slow. Whatever had been in the water at Arkham was still in his head, slowing his thoughts down so he couldn't think as quickly.

He growled and slammed his head against the fence, clearing his mind. Pain helped, it was a constant in life and it was calming on him. Besides, not wearing his paint put him in a bad mood but there was no point in wearing it if no one was around to see it. It was a disguise to scare people and hide his scars. He wore it when he was The Joker, not when he was himself. Although, who "himself" was he couldn't remember anymore. He lost that guy a long time ago.

There was a bang and he reached into his jeans for his switchblade, calling to his dogs in Russian at the same time. Whoever was bothering him would be sorry even if by the end they were smiling…

He ducked his head, raising his hackles so to speak, and flipped his knife. This was gonna be fun.

_Harley's POV_

Harley had been watching him for the last twenty minutes or so. At first, she'd thought the tan, blond man was one of the henchmen but the more she watched, the more she noticed things about him.

Such as the way he carried himself even when he wasn't all painted up and in his suit. He walked like a predator. He _was_ a predator. It saturated his very being; who he was. The man was built for chaos. It was glorious.

She likened it to watching a lion pace in its cage. You could tell it was wild but you were sure it could be tamed.

Until it got out and ripped someone's face off.

Then there was the other usual habits like licking his scars (they weren't even that noticeable until you got up close), the way he never stopped moving, his forearms, his beautiful hair, his skin, his…_everything_. However he still scared the shit outta her. Which is why she jumped about a mile when he started walking towards her. Apparently when you walk into metal trashcans they make noise. So now not only was her knee hurting like a bitch but a pit bull, a Doberman, and a Rotweiller were all stalking towards where she was with their teeth bared.

She reached into her bag and looked for something, anything to distract them. Her hand found a bag of Doritos. _Perfect_. She threw them at the dogs and they sniffed at them for a second before proceeding in ripping them apart and snapping at each other. She breathed a sigh of relief before being pulled to her feet by the back of her shirt.

"Well, _lookee _here," he turned her around so she was facing him. He was smiling slightly at her but his eyes were smoldering with rage. He probably hadn't realized how easy it was to find his hideout. God, he was gorgeous even without the costume. Movie star gorgeous, besides the scars of course. She wanted to touch them but he was holding her arms at her sides and studying her face with an intense expression. She suddenly became self-conscious and glanced down shyly.

"What?" she asked. He let her go as if the sound of her voice burned him.

"How'd you figure it out?" there was no more of the mocking charm in his voice now, only curiosity. He almost sounded like a regular guy. _Almost_.

"I figured you'd be somewhere that used to be fun. And ya know," she made a general gesture to the surroundings.

"Clowns," she smiled a little but dropped it when she saw his expression.

He was chewing on the inside of a scar and gazing at her through heavily lidded eyes.

"Righ – t" he popped the "t".

The conversation as quickly turning boring and she knew she had to keep it interesting in order to stay alive.

"I got the mask you gave me."

"Did you try it on? He said it as if it were obvious/

"Um…not?" she pulled it out of her bag and looked up at him. He rolled his eyes at her and grabbed the mask, turning her around.

"Ya know, any other _normal _girl tries things on when they get them," he said as he tied the mask around her head and made sure it was secure before circling her and looking at the effect of it.

Harley sniffed dismissively at him.

"Well maybe I'm not normal then."

He snorted and grinned widely.

"You obviously aren't. You just sought out and found the most wanted criminal in Gotham, accepted a gift from him and now you're talking to him – still," he stopped his circling and crossed his arms, starting at her.

"_Why_?" he drew the word out, distorting it.

Harley took a deep breath and leveled her gaze, so she was staring directly into his eyes.

"I hate my life, I saw you kill Katie and it was brilliant, you're a fucking genius, my Dad likes little girls, my school is corrupt , I think you're the first and _only_ interesting thing that will ever happened to me," she took a breath to stop herself as the reality of her words blossomed inside of her and continued.

"I got a million of 'em. What more dot you need to know?"

"You, ah, you want to stay here?"

Harley nodded frantically.

He looked at her a little longer, and then smiled. This girl _was_ crazy. He liked it. It would be interesting to see how she lasted.

An idea hit him. Batman would never see it coming. And wasn't it horrible ironic that she was a Catholic School Girl? Yes, he would twist her, it wouldn't be hard. He'd twisted Gotham's white knight; a green little girl would be much easier.

"Harleen Quinzel," he tilted his head to the side.

"Harley Quinn," rolling the name around in his mouth, he steered her into the warehouse.


	4. Laughter

**A/N: **Hello my lovely readers! Sorry for the long update period but I've been on vacation in the mountains without computer access. It was saddening. Please review and I'll give you a purple and green cake with red and black sprinkles on it (I seriously made one the other day – twas delicious). Enjoy! I love you all.

"_Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat_

_"We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."_

-_Alice in Wonderland_ by Lewis Carroll

_Harleen Quinzel lay on the dirty moth eaten couch in the __Joker's hide out__ with her legs carelessly crossed over the arm of the furniture. _

Harley smiled at what she'd just written in her notebook. Yes, it was true. She was indeed lying on the dirty moth eaten couch in the Joker's hide out with her legs carelessly crossed over the arm of the furniture.

It was glorious.

She'd just gotten back from school and had flung her back pack by the doorway and thrown herself on the couch with her English Lit notebook. She was _supposed_ to be taking notes on The Mad Tea Party Scene from Alice in Wonderland but frankly, she thought, her own situation was a _little _more interesting than a crazed hatter spouting potentially useless and definitely cryptic advice.

After all, it wasn't everyday you got to hang out with a super villain that you just happened to be in love with.

Even if he didn't know…or care.

Not that she minded, of course. Even after only a week of him training her, teaching her how to shoot a gun, what commands the dogs used, how to use a knife properly, getting creative with you weapons, how to make people writhe in pain without killing them accidentally, where the internal organs are, how to treat wounds without a PhD., how to make a bomb, etc., she was sure that some force had guided her to him. Not only that, but there was chemistry between them. It was in every touch, every glance, and every laugh that only drew her to him more closely.

The laughter was another thing. Harley smiled as the very thought of his laughter made what felt like an electric current rise up her spine and all through her.

It had become a game – to see just how much she could make him laugh. It was usually unexpected, or right when she was sure he was going to explode with rage because of something she'd done, he'd just stop and start laughing. Sometimes, when he was having a _really_ good day, it would be as if they were in their own little world where nothing, not even threats of the GPD or Batman closing in, could get to them and they'd just have uncontrollable fits of laughter.

Harley _adored _his laughter. Some days, though, it scared her. Sometimes, she'd noticed, that the laughter was simply the calm before the storm. There were days when he'd lash out at the thing nearest to him and it unfortunately was usually her. Not that she minded really. When a super villain was the love of your life you were bound to collect a few scrapes and bruises along the way. Besides it wasn't heavy duty, just a few slaps and hair grabs at the most.

Harley sighed, dreamily and went to the window, putting her hands on the sill. Guessing from the screams of pain coming from the other room, Mr. J was doing business with some mobster.

The "playroom" door slammed and Mr. J came out. He was in full Joker gear today and he looked murderous. The last of the Arkham drugs had finally left his system. Too bad the stupid Italian had picked today to send a large shipment of guns over to Metropolis without his permission, but it would set the record straight when the others' heard. He shook his head and cleaned his knife on his already bloody gloves, you'd think they'd have learned by now just who they were dealing with.

He looked over to see Harley's backpack at the door and scowled. He wasn't sure why but the girl was growing on him, as much as he hated to admit.

Something had to be done.

He walked up behind her and flipped her around so she was facing him. The blonde smiled and pressed her hands to his chest, her heart racing.

"Hey Puddin' guess what?" she singsonged.

He sighed and decided to play along as an idea came to him.

"What?"

"I'm gonna be eighteen tomorrow!" she exploded the news as if she'd been holding it in for years. He smirked and licked his scars.

"Guess I'll have to give you your birthday present then. Tell me, do you want it now or _later_?"

Harley thought for a moment, scrunching up her face a little in the process, going along with the banter.

"Now." He smiled wickedly at her and gripped her wrists tightly.

Her face fell and Harley unconsciously took a step back, the smile on his face was there but his eyes darkened dangerously. The usual watery brown had just turned into a hard black, like onyx, and she'd seen that look too many times before to know it didn't bode well for the person on the receiving end of it.

"Hey, hey, _shhhh,"_ he took on an innocent expression but his eyes stayed the same as he pulled her towards him. She'd never seen him like this.

It was the most frightening thing she'd ever witnessed.

He was beautiful.

"I-I think I want it l-later, Puddin," she stammered, unable to turn away from his eyes as they burned into her.

"Ah, ah ah, _Harleen_, you know what they always say," he said as he flicked open a switchblade from nowhere and waved it to punctuate his words.

"What's that, Mr. J?" she said faintly, trying to smile as she eyed the blade warily.

The leaned her into the couch and pinned her, his breath close to her ear sending a mixture of pleasant and terrified shivers through her.

"Better late than never," he dropped his voice into that demonic octave that always managed to make people realize he wasn't just some silly loony escaped from Arkham.

He sliced through the skin in her cheek with one quick swift movement and she yelped in surprise as the pain washed through her face and, before she could stop them, tears mixing in with her blood, the salt stinging her.

He stopped and looked at her impatiently.

"Hey," he grabbed her chin and looked her over. He studied her face for a second and gave her a furrowed his brows.

"Well, it's no fun if you're already crying."

Disappointment washed through her as she fought to stop her tears. He wasn't proud of her; it was all over his face.

"S-sor-sor-sorry," she choked back her tears and covered her mouth. He smiled at her and patted her shoulder.

"That's my girl," he said before going back to slashing through her face.

Harley's heart soared. He'd called her _his girl_. She was _his girl_. The previous disappointment in herself melted away as his words made her feel so happy she could sing, albeit loud and out of key, but there was no other way to describe the way it made her feel. The pain in the left side of her face meant nothing now. Besides, whatever he was doing might even be an improvement. Now she'd really _belong_ to him. And no one, not her father, not nasty school girls, not no one was gonna take him away from her.

The Joker worked over her face. He wouldn't kill her. Oh no, she had far too much potential for that, besides playing with her emotion was almost as fun as toying with Batman. However, that wasn't the point of this. The point was that if she wanted this badly enough she had to stick with it. To create chaos, you had to _know_ chaos and this was just the beginning.


End file.
